


one last hurrah

by randomfills (spnfanatic)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/U, Brotherly Banter, Episode Tag, Episode: s15e13 Destiny's Child, Gen, Ghost Hunting, Lots of dialogue, Short, and alt sam and alt dean, episode coda, just a fun story, lots of bickering, showing the differences between sam and dean, with alt Dean and Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnfanatic/pseuds/randomfills
Summary: Episode coda to season 15x13 “Destiny’s Child”Dean couldn’t believe they were doing this. He turned to his brother. “You ready?” Sam nodded. Then he turned back to their counterparts. Alt Sam, and his weird man-bun, gripping the rifle tightly. Alt Dean, grinning nervously, gripping the sawed off Dean handed him. “You guys? One last hurrah.”*Or Sam and Dean weren’t sure if they’d ever get another chance to hunt with their counterparts before shit hits the fan with Jack and God so they decide to hunt a ghost*
Relationships: Alt Dean Winchester & Alt Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	one last hurrah

**Author's Note:**

> Just a coda to last night's episode. It was a really fun one! Just a warning: Lots of banter/bickering and dialogue...so the usual. Maybe a little bashing of the British Men of Letters. Sorry to people who like them! I love Ketch and Mick so...sorry!

It was Sam who suggested it, so if shit hit the fan, at least Dean could blame it on his brother. Well, okay. Dean had a hand in the blame too. He did, after all, agree...no matter how reluctantly. And don’t even get him started with...other Sam and Dean. The alternate versions of Sam and Dean who apparently were trust fund babies, and liked to wear man-buns (much to Sam’s displeasure and Dean’s amusement), didn’t drink much, didn’t even look at porn, could apparently fly without having a freaking panic attack and got offended over just about anything that came out of the Winchesters’ mouths. And don’t fucking get Dean started on the ridiculous way they dressed up, especially other Dean - he wasn’t sure why Sam was taking so much offense, he thought alt Sam wasn’t TOO much different from regular Sam. It was Dean who was very much offended by the way his counterpart talked, the way he acted like he’d contract some disease just by touching anything on their table.

So yeah, Sam thought it’d be fun to go hunting with alternate versions of themselves. It wasn’t like they’d get a chance to do this kind of thing on a daily basis, not with the literal end of the universe looming so close. So okay, after Sam made that argument, it was kind of hard to continue arguing with him. So Dean had no choice but to give in. Besides, with the way alt Sam and Dean bragged about hunting monsters world wide, well…

“Ever hunt a ghost?” Dean asked, handing his counterpart an old sawed off.

Alt Dean took it gingerly, frowning as he examined it carefully. He looked back up at Dean and said, “Hundreds. Why?”

Alt Sam was handed a rifle. “Are you taking us ghost hunting?” He looked giddy, like a kid at a candy store for the first time.

“Wait. I thought you were sending us to Rio,” Alt Dean said.

“We still are. After the ghost hunt. Unless you don’t want to hunt with us,” Sam said, examining his own gun.

“Of course we do, right, Dean?” Alt Sam said hastily.

Alt Dean nodded. “Right.” He looked back down at the sawed off in his hands. “Don’t you guys have anything...uh.”

“What?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know. More high tech, I guess?” Alt Dean was still fiddling with the gun. “How do you kill ghosts with this?”

“You don’t. It’s just to hold them off,” Sam said, his tone snippy, as he watched the counterparts mess with the guns. It was like they’ve never used a gun in their lives.

“How do you hold off a ghost?” Alt Sam asked.

“Salt,” Dean deadpanned. This was ridiculous. “Are you guys sure you’re hunters?”

“Yes. We’ve killed thousands of monsters, including ghosts,” Alt Dean snapped. “Just...not with these. And why would you want to hold off a ghost when you can just instantly vaporize them?”

Sam paused. “What? You vaporize ghosts? _How_?”

“Well, yes. Dad made these guns that, well, sort of just destroys the souls,” Alt Sam explained.

“You destroy souls?” Dean couldn’t be hearing correctly.

“Well, yeah. It’s the most effective method. What do you guys do?” Alt Dean asked, finally looking up. He looked genuinely puzzled.

“We put souls to rest, not destroy them,” Dean snapped. “So they can get judged and go to heaven or hell or whatever.”

“Heaven is real?” Alt Dean asked. He shared a look with Alt Sam. How many souls did they just destroy that could’ve gone to heaven? Whoops.

Dean wanted to bang his head against the wall. What the fuck? He glared at Sam who just looked bewildered. ‘This is your fault, Sammy’ he mouthed. Sam shrugged helplessly.

“Heaven’s real. Almost everything’s real,” Sam said.

“Aliens. What about aliens?” Alt Dean asked.

“No. I don’t think so. But fairies are,” Dean said.

“Oh we’ve encountered plenty of those before. Remember Oberon, Dean?” Alt Sam asked.

Alt Dean shuddered. “Don’t remind me, Samuel.”

“You know it’s really weird hearing you call him Samuel,” Dean said.

Alt Dean just looked at him in confusion. “What do you call Samuel?”

“Sammy,” Dean and Sam said together.

Alt Sam and Dean shared a look. “Oh,” Alt Dean said. “Sammy.” He shrugged. “I suppose it has a nice ring to it. Don’t you think, Sam?”

“I think I prefer ‘Samuel’,” Alt Sam said.

“Okay. Whatever, you guys ready to head out?” Dean asked, wondering why he agreed to this. This was just too weird. He turned back to his brother. “You ready?” Sam nodded. Then he turned back to their counterparts. Alt Sam, and his weird man-bun, gripping the rifle tightly. Alt Dean, grinning nervously, gripping the sawed off Dean handed him. “You guys? One last hurrah.”

On their way out, Sam and Dean quickly filled their counterparts on the current status of this universe.

“You guys lived quite the lives. I have to admit, if God wasn’t so set on killing you two, I’d be jealous of all the attention,” Alt Dean said, as they all filed into the Impala.

“Yeah well, you can have him,” Dean muttered starting the engine up.

Alt Sam shifted uncomfortably in the back. Damn his long legs. “So, if you guys don’t just vaporize the souls, how exactly do you put them to rest? I don’t think you answered that question.”

“We dig up the grave and burn the bones,” Sam explained.

“You what?” Alt Dean asked, looking dismayed. He shared another grim look with Alt Sam. “People let you guys do that?”

Dean chuckled as he peeled out of the garage. “Hell no. Not in this world.”

“So you got, like, a rap sheet or something?” Alt Sam asked.

“Well, uh...yeah I guess?” Sam winced at all the crimes they wracked up between each other. Fuck the list was miles long by this point. Not that it mattered since it was the end of the universe. He was sure Chuck was just having a grand old time watching Sam and Dean run around like idiots. Wanted posters of him and Dean for crimes they didn’t even commit, feds chasing them like terrorists.

“Do I even want to know?” Alt Dean asked.

Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Probably not. Look, guys, we still got a few more hours before we’re there. Why don’t we talk about something else?” _Before I want to rip your heads off_? This was freaking Sam’s idea. Thought it’d be fun and interesting to go on a hunt with their obnoxious, prissy counterparts who apparently never hunted a damn thing the old fashioned way. They might as well be fucking civilians at this point.

“Okay then,” Alt Dean said. “Well, seems like our worlds are pretty different.”

Dean snorted. _No shit._

“Yeah,” Sam said. “How exactly do you hunt in your world? You said something about flying?”

Alt Dean perked up at that. “Oh yeah! We’ve got our own jets, right, Samuel?”

There was the awful name again. Dean - any version of Dean - should not be allowed to say it. Alt Sam just nodded. “Oh, yes. Dean here loves flying.”

It was Sam’s turn to snort as Dean tightened his grip on the wheel. “Yeah. Right. Totally Dean.”

If he wasn’t so focused on driving, he’d punch Sam in the face. “Yeah. Totally me,” Dean said sarcastically.

“Anyways,” Alt Dean continued, completely oblivious to regular Sam and Dean’s discomfort, “we alternate between Europe and America, sometimes Asia. It depends on the threat level of the monster and how much the pay is.”

Alt Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean goes for the highest payout. I don’t really understand why when you don’t even do anything with the money.”

Alt Dean sighed. “Oh, Samuel. You just don’t understand the importance of saving.”

“I do. I just don’t understand the importance of saving _that_ much. Dean, we’ve got millions. What could you possibly be saving for?”

Alt Dean’s eyes twinkled as he thought back to the laptop. “Porn,” he whispered. He turned to give his brother a grin. “Lots of porn, Sam.”

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh man, guess he really is you, Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Five more long hours of this shit. How the fuck was he going to survive?

Dean thought road tripping with just Sam was awful. Try adding in alternate versions of themselves in the back. Yeah, shit. They just wore their faces. That was it. Alt Dean, despite what Sam said, was nothing like real Dean. And Alt Sam barely held a candle to real Sam. This ghost hunt, which should totally just be a simple salt and burn in central Iowa, was going to go quick and smooth if Dean had any say. Then they were going to send these guys on their merry way to Rio with a big fat middle finger and a message to stay far the fuck away from Sam and Dean as possible. 

Seriously, they’ve barely been with them a day and Dean wanted to dump them on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere with a big neon sign that read ‘Chuck, please smite them out of existence’. Alt Dean was in the middle of a story about how he basically just took down a dozen vamps without having to so much as move. They apparently had tech that would make the British Men of Letters look like children playing with their mommy and daddy’s toys. Dean was kind of jealous hearing about the cool gadgets John Winchester apparently made.

Wish they had him instead. Life would’ve been so much easier and Sam might’ve enjoyed hunting when he was younger.

“We’re here,” Dean announced as he pulled them off to a motel. It was small and plain looking but this was where he read about the half a dozen deaths in the span of less than a month.

“Great,” Alt Dean said as regular Dean killed the engine. They all unbuckled the seat belts and got out of the Impala. “By the way, did I tell you how much I love this thing? It’s such a sweet ride.” His hand lingered a little too long on the hood and Dean tried hard not to glare at him. “I mean don’t get me wrong. Love my jets. They’re my babies. But damn, this thing is awesome. For a car.”

“For a car,” Dean repeated.

Sam sighed. “Oh boy. Here we go.”

“What? What did I say?” Alt Dean asked.

“We should head in,” Sam said, trying to steer Dean into the motel.

They all checked into the motel together, garnering strange looks from the manager. They were all handed keys to two separate rooms. Alt Sam frowned. “Why do you think they looked at us like that? Is it...do you think it’s the hair?”

Alt Dean patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t say such silly things, little brother. Of course not. If anything, it’s probably because of other me.” He turned to Sam with a raised eyebrow. “Does he always look like that or what?”

Sam looked over to see Dean glowering. “Uh, yeah, kind of. You get used to it.”

“Both of you should just stop talking,” Dean growled.

They all shut up as they headed into their rooms. The rooms were connected by a single door inside. He sighed, leaning his head against the wall. Fucking finally. “I thought they’d never shut up,” Dean grumbled. He looked at Sam who was already setting up his laptop on the small table in the room. “This is your fault, Sammy.”

Sam looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Hey. You agreed to it.”

“Whatever. Just do your research thing and let’s get gank this thing and send them off to fucking Rio or whatever. The faster we get rid of them, the faster we can go back to normal.”

“Normal. Like Jack killing Chuck normal? Like listening to freaking Billie normal?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Our normal,” Dean said, rolling his eyes.

“Okay. Just checking.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

They decided they were both tired and held off on the research until morning.

The ghost wasn’t hard to look up after Sam pulled up a bunch of the town’s history. It was a girl who was killed in the previous hotel, well before it became this particular motel. The only problem was that she was cremated. But apparently she left behind a locket of some kind. If it had just been Sam and Dean, they could’ve easily put this case to rest. But with their weird counterparts? Fuck that.

Alt Dean was having a hard time wrapping his head around trying to do this the old fashioned way and it was driving regular Dean up the freaking wall. “Dude! What the hell is wrong with you guys?”

“We, uh, never had to do this sort of thing before,” Alt Sam answered sheepishly, his head hanging down.

Sam sighed as he watched Alt Dean freak out even more. “Seriously?”

“Seriously! How do you guys do this all the time? It must be exhausting just finishing a hunt like this. It just seems so inefficient,” Alt Dean was saying.

Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He hit him on the back of the head with the butt of his own rifle. “Ow! What the heck!”

“That was for giving me a goddamn headache,” Dean growled at his counterpart. “Will you just fucking chill already? Sorry we have to do things the old fashioned way. Sam, here, had to sift through a lot of documents, okay?”

“You don’t have a team to do that?” Alt Dean asked, rubbing the back of his head.

“What? A team to what? Research?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Alt Sam chimed in. “We have teams designated to research different cases.”

“A team for each case just to research? Isn’t that a bit...excessive?” Sam asked.

“Not really,” Alt Dean said. “It gets us in and out quickly if we already know what we’re looking for. It’s efficient.”

Fuck. Yeah, British Men of Letters had nothing on these jackasses. Still, Dean sighed, not wanting to get into this here. “Look. That’s fan-fucking-tastic for you guys. Me and Sammy don’t have that luxury unfortunately. So let’s just find the locket and gank this ghost before she kills anyone else.” He waited for everyone to nod. He looked pointedly at alt Sam and Dean and said, “And if the ghost comes after either of you, shoot it. Like I said before, those babies are loaded with rock salt, so it’ll hold her off until any of us can torch the locket. Got it?”

“Got it,” they said in unison. They looked at each other, grinning.

Sam and Dean shared a look as well. “Okay. I see what people mean when we do that. That’s just fucking creepy, man,” Dean said with a shudder.

Sam shrugged.

“Okay. Let’s head out, guys,” Dean ordered.

They headed in different directions. Dean looked through each room carefully. Dean managed to steal the master key as Sam distracted the manager, asking where was a good place to eat nearby. Dean wasn’t sure how long he had before Sam ran out of things to say but he hurried through the empty rooms. It didn’t take too long since the motel was so small. And there had only been one other occupant in the motel who was out for the morning.

As he sifted through a closet, he heard the familiar sound of gunfire. _Shit._ He stood up and rushed to peek his head out into the hall. Alt Dean was running with the ghost girl on his tail. Fuck! He watched as Alt Dean turned around just enough to fire off another round. Just as it hit the ghost, Alt Sam came running around the corner.

Alt Dean saw his brother and slowed to a jog as he waited for him to catch up. He had a wide grin on his face. “Did you see that, Samuel? I shot a freaking ghost!”

“I saw,” Alt Sam said, gasping for breath.

The ghost materialized between them and Alt Sam nearly stumbled back as Alt Dean froze. Dean sighed and shot the ghost from the room he stood in. The two gaped as the ghost disappeared. They looked to see Dean glaring at them.

“Pay attention,” Dean snapped. “I still need to look through this room and destroy the locket before we get kicked out.”

He went back to digging through the closet and finally found it. It was a small silver heart shape and it opened to reveal a small picture of a young girl. That was their ghost. Thank fucking…

He grabbed his lighter from the pocket of his jacket and lit the sucker up. The ghost materialized one last time to try and take a swing at Dean before the flames completely engulfed the necklace. Dean shielded his face with an arm but heard the firing of a gun. He looked up to see Alt Sam and Dean, both with their guns pointed to where the ghost had been.

“Good job,” Dean deadpanned.

The two just stood there as they stared at Dean. Dean walked over to them. “Come on, guys. Let’s go see how Sammy’s handling our poor civilian.”

Sam was a fucking pro at consoling people and getting them to believe that the motel had some kind of gas leak problem and to get the hell out of dodge until they could solve it. He apparently did run out of conversation to make before pulling out one of his many IDs, and claiming he was here on behalf of the CDC. The guy ate it up and said he’d come back when they got the problem fix. Gave Sam his number and everything.

At the end of the day, it hadn’t been too bad. Yeah, Alt Dean and Alt Sam were a bit stuck up and prissy but...in the end, Dean loathed to admit, they didn’t make quite a bad team. They decided to drop them off at a nearby gas station. Gave them enough cash for a bus ride to the nearest airport. They were on their own for the tickets, though, it shouldn't be much of an issue for their counterparts considering they were rich.

“This is it then,” Alt Dean said as he stepped out of the car.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Have fun in Rio.”

“We will,” Alt Sam told him.

“We’re going to miss you,” Sam said.

Dean snorted. “I’m going to miss you,” Sam amended.

“You sure you don’t want some help fighting God?” Alt Dean asked.

“You don’t want to come with us. Trust me,” Dean said firmly. Everyone dies around us, he wanted to add but didn’t.

Alt Dean looked like he wanted to argue, but he thought better of it and just nodded. “Right. Well, good luck then.”

“Thanks. We’re all going to need it,” Dean said. He waited for the alt brothers to step back as he fired the Impala back up. “Well you two take care, now, you hear?”

Alt Dean blinked, then grinned. He saluted. “Yessir.”

Dean rolled his eyes as they slowly drove away. He could see them grinning in the side view mirror. “Fucking alternate dimensions, man.”

“Yeah well, we’re getting back to normal now, right?”

Dean thought about Billie and Jack and Cas and Chuck and the fucking end of the world. “Yeah. _Our_ normal.”

**THE END**


End file.
